


Interdependence [Quid Pro Quo]

by jestwane (transience)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Everyone's a BAMF, M/M, Torture, mainly Akakuro, nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3223949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transience/pseuds/jestwane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is there still a choice, if you know you would always pick the same person over anything or anyone else, including yourself?</p><p>An AU in a world that is run by an organisation known as Miracle, and our favourite characters find themselves fighting against the controlling system, gaining a reputation as Shades.<br/>With such a life, comes lots of danger, and a happy ending is so highly improbable even Midorima is convinced Oha Asa must be mistaken when it says Cancer's happiness is closer than they think.<br/>Because if there's one thing they know, it is that they can die at any point in time.</p><p>[[ Akashi gets captured saving Kuroko, and let's just say they're as self-sacrificial as the Winchesters. ]]</p><p>“We have to leave, now.”<br/>“I’ll distract them, just run.”<br/>“I won’t leave you.”<br/>“You must.”<br/>“Sei-“</p><p>“Please.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leave Me

**Author's Note:**

> "I told you to run, so we'd both be free." -- The Hanging Tree from Catching Fire

 

> “We have to leave, _now_.”
> 
>  
> 
> “I’ll distract them, _just run_.”
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Tetsuya_.”
> 
>  
> 
> “I won’t leave you.”
> 
>  
> 
> “You must.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Sei-“
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Please_.”

 

Snippets of a rushed conversation assaulted Akashi, each syllable attempting to drag up memories that were all too painful. Remembering hurt, thinking hurt, breathing hurt.

Akashi exhaled, the air rattling and sounding so dry from his throat, as his abdomen convulsed again, each jerk electrifying his body with mind-numbing pain as he hung from the walls on cold metal chains, barely being able to reach the floor even when tip toeing.

It was all he knew for days.

 

* * *

 

 

> “…MIRACLE…”
> 
> “…SHADOW…”
> 
> “…ANSWER…”

 

Words screamed inside his head as the man in white dug the sharp blade of a knife into his ribs, compensating for the screams he could not let loose. He won't plead, he won't beg, he won't give the man the pleasure of hearing his screams. Each stab and slash sought to elicit information, to drag the screams out from his throat, and Akashi bites down hard on his lower lip until he can taste his own blood.

“I’LL ASK YOU ONE MORE TIME. WHERE. ARE. THE. OTHER. SHADES. ”

Each pause was punctuated with a different needle piercing a different vein, and by the end of it Akashi can’t process anything but the feeling of burning and drowning on the biting cold of the table at the same time as the drugs wreaked havoc in his system.

 

* * *

 

 

> “…you know we …not talking… kill him…”
> 
> “…countermeasures… useful… operation…”
> 
> “Yes, of course, immediately.”

 

At least they bothered with sedating him, Akashi thinks, as he picks at the stitches that ravage his chest. He had come to in bloodstained white sheets on a hospital gurney, before they dragged him off to this dark dark room. If not for his trained eye, he would be unable to see a thing.

They would come irregularly, sometimes to slam his shoulders into the concrete floor and hold his head and shoulders down while they force fed him, and sometimes they would just empty a bucket of freezing water over his head. This time, they pulled him to his feet, shackling his wrists to a ring hanging in the middle of the room, and raised it to a height that pulled all his muscles taut, straining to reach the ground. Gloved hands peel off Akashi’s shirt, and he takes note of the multitudes of bruises that decorate his sternum. Then he hears the crack of a whip, and screams as lines of fire tear down his back.

“Do you know what we’ve done to you?”  
“We-“  
“…poison… death…”

It was like the world slowed to a stop for a few seconds, the whip hanging in the air, and then there was no pain, no screams, nothing.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

> “ _Sei._ Seijuurou.”
> 
>  
> 
> _Akashi can feel fingers working at the tangles in his hair, and a warmth beneath his elevated head. He feels safe, and comfortable, and a strange sense of familiarity, but that can’t be right. Not here, not now. He shifts to get a better look but everything’s so bright and white it hurts._
> 
> _The hands leave his hair in favour of holding him still. Akashi stiffens, but he relaxes when he realises the hands were gentle, not forceful. He opens his mouth to ask a question but is met with a finger sealing his lips._
> 
> “Shh, don’t,” _The voice whispers softly._
> 
> “Sleep,” _It coaxes, firm and unyielding, fingers moving back up to trace patterns on Akashi’s cheek._
> 
>  
> 
> Akashi faintly recalls a door opening, other voices, other people, being carried away, a dark room, pain, screams, and then nothing as everything starts blurring away as if sucked into a black hole deep in his subconscious.
> 
>  

* * *

* * *

 

 

In a dark room of Miracle HQ, a figure with red hair and heterochromatic eyes stands.

This is how Aomine and Kise find Akashi after weeks, with three corpses around him, lips bitten raw and dripping with blood, a few stray strands of rope caught between teeth.


	2. Chapter 2

Akashi watches with amusement as the blonde starts chattering at the speed of a machine gun “AKASHICCHI!!!!!!!WE-FINALLY-FOUND-YOU-OMG-THERES-SO-MUCH-BLOOD-AOMINECCHI!!!!!!!!!IM-SORRY-AKASHICCHI-WE-LOST-KUROKOCCHI-WE-HAVE-TO----“

“Oi, baka Kise. Shut up. We gotta get out of here.”

 

> _“We have to leave, now.”_

 

Akashi’s startles slightly at the sense of déjà vu. Where had he heard those words before?  
His train of thought is disrupted when the blonde (Ryota, he remembers), shrugs off his white blouse and throws it to Akashi. Catching it and putting it on in a single fluid motion, he starts buttoning from the middle, leaving the lowest and highest buttons undone. They were in a hurry, after all.

Immediately, spots of red start blooming on the shirt, but Akashi looks up, unaffected. The other man, Daiki, tosses Akashi a pair of butterfly knives, which Akashi plucks out of the air with grace. His memories start rushing back. He was Akashi Seijurou, and he was deadly. The motions of combat run through his mind like the frames of an old movie. His body at least remembers the endless trainings he had gone through and he flips the blade open and close and open to test the feel of it.

Daiki and Ryota seem mildly intimidated, judging from their backing away slowly.

The trio dash out, Daiki ahead at first, but Akashi sees the first attack coming before him, and beats him to it. In a series of spins and neat slices to major arteries, Akashi takes down three before Daiki and Ryota finish the other off. The movements resonate in his mind, as if he could remember doing it a million times. Stab, slice, lunge, flip, duck, jump, sidestep, he could see it all, remember it all.

He could feel a few wounds on his back rip open, but strangely the pain if he even felt it did not affect him, and he clears rows upon rows of enemies.

They advance easily, their opponents no match for one yet alone three of them. All was fine until Akashi catches a glimpse of a familiar male in white. Before he knew it, the door was kicked down and the man slammed into a wall whilst Akashi slowly and brutally cuts away the life in the man, bleeding him out until he goes limp. The body slides to the floor in a dull thud as Akashi turns around to a stunned Daiki and Ryota.

 

**_“Who are you?” Ryota stammers out._ **

**_“I’m Akashi Seijurou, of course.”_ **

 

* * *

 

Atsushi was waiting for them outside, munching on Pocky in a black car with shaded windows. Akashi could tell from their thickness that they were bulletproof. Upon seeing Akashi approach, he offers a stick of vanilla pocky to him, and seemed mildly surprised when Akashi accepts. In a millisecond the surprise was gone as he reaches into his bottomless bag of diabetes for an Umaibo. Murasakibara Atsushi, Child Man. Facts pop up in Akashi’s mind, along with a mild annoyance that even leaning and slouching against the car, Atsushi was still taller than Akashi. A memory surfaces of Akashi beating Atsushi in unarmed combat, bringing him to his knees multiple times. His annoyance vanishes. After all, he had earned his companion’s respect with skill, not fear.

“Mmmn… Aka-chin seems different,” Atsushi says as Akashi sheathes his knives, tucking them into his jeans pockets. Atsushi grabs his hand, bending down to lick the blood on it. “Ew salty. I thought it might be strawberry~”

>                “Sei-“ The feel of fingers gripping his own, tight and desperate, takes over his senses, and Akashi finds himself clutching at nothing.

“Some things don’t belong in your mouth, Atsushi.”

“Ne, is Akachin okay?” Atsushi drawls, as he gets back into the driver’s seat. Akashi called shotgun with a look, Ryota and Daiki presumably used to this as neither protests.

“I’m fine, Atsushi.”

They rendezvous with Shintarou, Takao and Himuro at HQ, an underground modern fortress beneath the tallest skyscraper in the city centre. Akashi even owned a penthouse suite in that very building, under an alternate identity, of course.

Shintarou immediately starts fussing over Akashi, (Akashi did not miss Daiki’s muttered Midorimama, and Ryota’s failed attempt at hiding his laughter) shoving pink fluffy bunny slippers onto Akashi’s feet (“Sagittarius’ lucky item, nanodayo,” he explains,) and directing him to a bench while calling Takao for a Medical Kit. Atsushi follows his stomach and heads into their kitchen. Ryota and Daiki make themselves scarce, although there is the occasional loud whining of Kise.

Akashi slips off Ryota’s blouse with ease, it was too big for him anyway, as Takao comes with the kit. Midorima Shintarou, self-taught doctor, expert hacker and marksman, on par with Takao, Himuro and almost, but not quite, Akashi himself. Akashi notices Shintarou’s brows furrow in concern and something akin to shock, but he stays professional and simply starts dressing his wounds.

The alcohol stung, making his back buzz with strange sensations. Looking down, Akashi saw that most of the deeper gashes had already begun to close, albeit terribly. They would leave scars, that was certain, but he would not need stitches. Shintarou starts wrapping bandages around Akashi’s chest, and after a couple of rounds, Akashi takes the roll of gauze from his hand.

“Let me.”

Shintarou obliges, a finger reaching up to adjust his glasses. He gets a wet cloth, and washes some of the bloods and grime off Akashi’s face, neck, arms, hair. Fingers run up and down his sides in quick and precise motions, checking for injuries. They pause at his scalp.

>                Akashi can feel fingers working at the tangles in his hair…

“Is there something wrong?”

Shintarou clears his throat. “Judging by the bruising and tenderness, there is a chance of a concussion, nanodayo. Do you have lapses in memory? Black outs? Feel anything strange?”

“Try me.”

Ryota and Daiki chose to make their entrance now, bickering about something stupid as per normal. Atsushi strolls in with Himuro and the cake Muro-chin made him already half eaten.

“Tell me about each one of them, and yourself,” Shintarou requests.

 

“Kise Ryota. Field Agent, expert manipulator. Uses a large portion of our budget to buy guyliner. Recruited due to exceptional abilities in mimicry, observation and social aptitude.

“Aomine Daiki. Field Agent, very adaptable. Remarkable accuracy while in motion. There’s a stack of Mai-chan magazines his third drawer from the top.”

Daiki sputters, “HOW DO YOU EVEN-“

“Murasakibara Atsushi. Half of our budget is spent on candy. Himuro Tatsuya, remarkable precision and concentration in combat, very calm in most situations.

“Midorima Shintarou, hacker, doctor, Oha Asa fanatic, which explains the sombrero. Takao Kazunari, recruited for exceptional field of vision similar to my own.

“Kuroko Tetsuya… Where is Tetsuya?”

“He disappeared this morning, leaving behind coordinates that led us to you. We are still trying to locate him. What do you remember of Kuroko?” Himuro explains.

“I… We… He could… blend in remarkably well.”

Akashi frowns.

“How does Tetsuya address you?”

“Akashi-kun, of course. Just like anyone else save Ryota and Atsushi with their honorifics.”

Ryota’s eyes are blown up so wide, and his jaw dropping to impossible lengths. Shintarou fiddles with his bandaged fingers while Atsushi stops munching on his chips. Daiki looks more confused than everyone else.

Ryota starts wailing, “AKASHICCHI DOESN’T REMEMBER KUROKOCCHIIIIIII!!!!!!!!”

 

* * *

 

Shintarou corners him later on, and Akashi decides it won’t hurt to tell the truth.

“I remember facts, but I can’t feel the emotional attachment. Like I see you and I know you’re a friend and a rival, but it just stops there.”

Shintarou is still wrapping and unwrapping his left hand as he says, “Memory loss is usually temporary, you should remember everything soon. You should rest now.”

>  “Sleep.”

“O-of course.”

Shintarou shoots him a concerned look, before walking away.


End file.
